


As Long As We Have We

by Ladymordecai



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladymordecai/pseuds/Ladymordecai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hundred and thirty-two years makes a lot of difference in how a holiday is celebrated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As We Have We

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FishEyenoMiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/gifts).



> I wrote this after seeing the Thanksgiving episode, and have not yet seen the latest episode before the hiatus, so I apologize if it's not up to canon or there's some crossover in the subject matter. I hope you enjoy anyway!

It started well before Thanksgiving, but Abbie managed to avoid giving a direct answer.

*

"Why is this apothecary festooned with evergreens?"

"It's a seasonal thing, don't worry about it."

*

Then Thanksgiving was . . . Thanksgiving . . . and since they both spent the next morning sleeping off hangovers, there might've been a reprieve if the newspapers hadn't decided to do a retrospective.

*

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant, have you seen this article?"

"No, Crane, because I don't read dead tree press."

"It says that this day is "Black Friday" and that five years ago, a mob trampled a man to death."

"Discount tvs are killer."

"I dislike your jocular tone, Lieutenant. A man gave his life, for what? So that one man would believe he entered a mercantile establishment quicker than those about him?"

"Mob mentality, Ichabod. They didn't know what they were doing."

"Yes, but a man died."

"Also, that's not why it's called Black Friday."

The look of incredulity Crane shot her could have peeled paint in a haunted house.

"Then why, pray tell, is this--I hesitate to called it a holiday--named thus, if not in remembrance?"

"It's the day all the shops make their bottom line for the year. Get out of the red--pay off their debt."

Crane stared.

Abbie shook her head. "Give me the dead tree. We have demons to find and a coven to warn. Black Friday is someone else's problem today."

"But a man died!"

*

And then Jenny got involved.

*

"Crane!"

"Ah, Miss Jenny. Would you care for some--"

"Not today, we're going shopping."

"Why are we shopping?"

"It's Small Business Saturday!"

Pulled away from what remained of his breakfast, Ichabod nevertheless managed to stall long enough to pull on coat, scarf, and hat. "Is this another inane materialistic 'holiday'? I thought better of you."

Jenny gave him a scathing look. "No, Crane, this is the rebellion _against_ Black Friday. Today people shop at local merchants, support the people living and working in their community."

"And there must be a day for this?"

"Otherwise all the sales go to the big box stores and the little guy drowns."

"Barbaric."

"Also, I'm paying with cash, so we're hitting the bank first."

"Do you not have enough ready coin on hand?"

"Not for today! I do all my Christmas shopping locally, and I do it all in cash, so small local businesses don't have to pay a fee to the credit card companies."

"Ah. Might I ask what my role is in this outing? Your good sister and I tarried quite late last evening preventing--"

"Crane, I thought this would be right up your alley! Local business, supporting the community . . ."

"Well, that is true . . ."

"Also, you're helping me carry shit."

"All becomes clear."

*

Captain Irving made it worse.

*

"Captain!"

"Huh? What, Crane?"

"I have been repeating your name for some few minutes. You only replied when I resorted to shouting. Have you been enthralled by that screen?"

"No, it's Cyber Monday."

"Good Lord, another one of your weekday epithets. What does this 'Cyber Monday' denote?"

"All the good deals are online. You save money, find gifts for everybody, and somebody else wraps it and ships it."

"Despite the continual bombardment of so-called holiday cheer, I cannot fathom how a simple Christian celebration, one holy day among many, became this greedy rush for--"

"I have a teenager who lives with her mother, this is the only way to make sure I get everything and it goes out on time."

Ichabod paused thoughtfully. The only sound was the quiet clicking of the mouse.

"Very well, Captain. I shall endeavor not to disturb you this day. But if Hell's minions make an appearance--"

"Yeah, yeah, preventing the apocalypse takes priority. I just can't screw up this year, okay?"

"Indeed."

*

Plus some choice moments from the month itself.

*

"This was a drink for the wealthy in England."

"Yeah, well now it's for everybody."

"A fine tradition! Eggs and rum, I approve, Lieutenant."

"The commercial stuff doesn't use real eggs."

The glass stopped halfway to Ichabod's mouth. "Why not, pray tell?"

"Salmonella."

"I feel this is going to be an unpleasant revelation."

"Fever, diarrhea, sepsis--"

"From eggs?"

"Raw eggs, anyway. Drink up."

*

"You know, there was a time when Christmas was illegal in Massachusetts. Too close to the pagan holidays from whence it came."

"Maybe if they'd known what was coming, they would've kept it illegal."

Abbie and Ichabod watched a pile of toys made with wood from hanging trees and (until recently) possessed by demons go up in flame.

"Would that it were so."

*

"I'm still very confused by this 'Santa Claus' figure--"

"Just keep walking, Crane."

*

Until, at last, the day itself arrived.

*

Captain Irving made the effort, took the time, swallowed his pride, and went to visit his daughter for three days, so the Mills sisters and Ichabod Crane passed a pleasant Christmas Eve celebrating their latest stay of execution. Christmas morning dawned clear, quiet, and snowbound.

After a hearty breakfast, supplied and burned in equal parts by all three participants, they settled around the tree ("The tannenbaum is a German tradition, I am simply unsure it is wise--" "Shut up, Crane.") to open gifts. Most were small but thoughtful, food or simple objects their new owners were unlikely to spend money on.

"I never asked, Lieutenant. The masses purchase gifts on Black Friday, Miss Jenny does her shopping on Small Business Saturday, and the Captain made his choices on Cyber Monday. When did you engage in the necessary commercialism?"

"Abbie is the nightmare of capitalism," Jenny butted in, teasing. "She _makes things_."

Abbie gave her sister an unimpressed look. "I buy things when I find them, that's all. Or I _make them_ , why not? One batch of cookies goes to five people and everybody's happy."

"I doubt you made this."

Ichabod held up the shining gold pocket watch, reflecting sunlight through the window and the colored lights on the tree.

"You're a special case. I didn't have all year to find a gift for a time-traveler from the Revolution. But I knew your watch had run down, so--"

"My thanks."

"You're welcome."

Warmed by the fire, they spent the day strengthening new friendships, secure in the modern miracle of Christmas. For all its wild preparations, Christmas day itself grew sacred in the past few hundred years, and the belief of many in a day of peace and hope protected the Witnesses, for a little while, from their burden.

It did not protect the Witnesses from each other, or from their families.

"You know, in the colonies we used to celebrate Christmas with rousing games in the snow."

"Well, now we have central heating and snowplows."

"Would you deny me a tradition?"

. . .

"What is a 'Grinch', and how might one propose to steal a day?"

"Watch the tv and find out, Crane."


End file.
